


Akashic Apocrypha

by comeonlight



Category: Final Fantasy Type-0
Genre: Angst, Blood, Ensemble Cast, Fluff, Gen, One Shot Collection, Short Chapters, and everything in between
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comeonlight/pseuds/comeonlight
Summary: Tales from the land of Orience (and beyond) that never happened.





	1. Learning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mutsuki has to help lead an after-school tutoring session, and she isn't quite looking forward to it. In her defense, why should she? High school AU. Mutsuki & Tonogiri.

The clock ticks, ever so slowly. Jack nods off to Atra’s interesting but very, very, long story that's completely unrelated to the class at this point. Queen takes notes out of habit. The sun seems to dip a little as Atra goes on...and on...and on...until  _ finally,  _ the bell to dismiss class sounds.

“It seems we've run out of time,” Atra says. “I do apologize. Please review lesson eight in your textbooks. Get home safely.”

The students drag their bodies to the door with murmurs of “Alright,” and “See you tomorrow.” The class spills into the hallway, joining a larger body of students ready to go home for the day. One particular Mutsuki Chiharano breaks free of the tide and clings for dear life to a pillar near the wall, as she always does. There's no way she's getting carried off to who-knows-where. The janitor’s closet, or inside a locker, or locked inside a lab- She could end up anywhere!

“Oh, Mutsuki!” Seven, one of Akademeia’s most well-known and equally well-liked students, stops by the pillar and stands next to Mutsuki as the traffic passes by. “Hanging in there?” Was that a pun? Well, at least she's trustworthy. Even if her humor isn't great, she's an ally in this cruel world.

“Yeah.” Mutsuki groans. “Geez, why’s it gotta be so cramped?”

“Well, they are doing a lot of renovations. But they're also building more onto the school. There should be more space to breathe next semester.”

“I sure hope so…”

The hordes of people begin to thin out as most students go home or to their club activities.

“Well, I've got a study session to lead,” Seven says, surveying her route with her eyes.

“Again?”

“Well...uh…” Seven clears her throat. “You were helping with one too, weren't you?”

Mutsuki pouts. “Don't remind me.”

“If I recall, you're partnered with Tonogiri. He seems easy to get along with. It can't be too bad.” Seven turns away and looks over her shoulder. “Let me know how it goes, okay?” She walks off to her destination, leaving Mutsuki and her pillar.

Mutsuki sighs and slumps her shoulders. “Well…” She makes her way to the nearest stairwell and climbs to the next floor. The second floor hallway seems to go on forever, but luckily she's seen it enough not to get dizzy anymore. Mutsuki trudges along, keeping an eye out for room 209. She passes 201, 202, and 203 - all classrooms - a couple of small labs, a bathroom, a few more classrooms, a closet, and then finally arrives at room 209, a small room designated for studying alone and in groups. She takes a deep breath, and opens the door.

Nine sleeps on a chair with his feet on the table. Cinque drools on the table, happily dreaming. Jack’s head rises and falls as he tries to cling to consciousness. An extremely short boy sits across from them wearing a blank expression.

Mutsuki enters the room and takes in the scene. The door slams shut behind her, as if sealing her fate. “Oh, sweet Etro.”

The short boy stands from his chair. “You must be Miss Mutsuki. I am Tonogiri. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Mutsuki blinks. “...Just Mutsuki.” What's with this shorty? Is chivalry the trend now?

“Mutsuki, then,” Tonogiri says. “We should begin by waking our tutees.”

“Got it,” Mutsuki says, tugging her sleeves up. She walks up to the table and slams her hands down. “All of you, wake up! Or I'm blowing you to smithereens!” Her voice causes Cinque and Jack to snap to attention, and Nine to fall out of his chair. Even Tonogiri takes a step back in surprise. Mutsuki takes a textbook from her bag and drops it onto the table. “We're gonna review some geometry today.”

Tonogiri distributes pencils, paper, and calculators to the three tutees while Mutsuki searches for simple problems in the textbook. She walks up to the whiteboard in the room and draws a shape. Nine, Cinque, and Jack stare intently at the drawing.

“It's good to see you're paying attention,” Tonogiri says. “Now, let's start with something simple. What do we call this shape?”

Cinque raises her hand. “A slanty square!”

“Well, there's a name for it.” Tonogiri forces a smile.

“A...um...nevermind.” Cinque scratches her head.

“A diamond,” Jack says with a confident smile.

“We're getting closer,” Tonogiri says. He looks at Nine. “Would you like to try?”

“No clue, Short Stuff,” Nine says flatly.

Tonogiri does his best to hide his disappointment with his enthusiastic expression. “Well, Tall Stuff, this shape is a rhombus. It's a type of parallelogram. And parallelograms are called such because their sides are…”

“Parallel,” Cinque chimes.

“Yes!” Tonogiri looks to Mutsuki. Her unamused face wipes the smile from his. “Ahem...So, how do we calculate the perimeter of a parallelogram?”

The tutees stare silently.

This is going to be a long session.

“I knew they couldn't possibly be  _ that  _ stupid,” Mutsuki says with a hint of a grin. She fits her textbook into her bag and secures it shut. Then she double checks it, then triple checks. “They just needed to focus.”

Tonogiri gives a small nod. “Yes, they were an...odd bunch. I don't think I could've kept them on task by myself, so I'm grateful you were here. Thank you.” He bows at the waist, and sees clear perplexity on Mutsuki's face when he stands up straight.

“Why are you sucking up to me?” Mutsuki's question sounds like nothing short of a demand.

Tonogiri raises his hands defensively. “It's a formality in Concordia. You're a woman and my senior, so the bow is just-”

“I've only got a year on you. Sheesh. Now, tell me your true motive.” Mutsuki takes a battle stance.

Sweat begins to form on the back of Tonogiri's neck. “I beg your pardon?”

Mutsuki reaches into her pocket. She has a miniature bomb in there somewhere, or at least the materials to throw one together. “Are you here to bully me?” Her hand feels around for the tiny components, but only finds a balled-up napkin.

Oh. Right. Her “unapproved items” got confiscated that morning and the nurse called in King to convince her to take some meds and one of those vitamin gummies. Talk about embarrassing. The aggression on Mutsuki's face fades, while Tonogiri’s expression transforms from slightly afraid to stern.

“I would never condone the act of bullying,” Tonogiri professes. “If you or anyone else is being bullied, I will personally see to it that such an intolerable act ceases, immediately. I swear this on my honor and my mother's.”

Mutsuki stares silently. She removes her hand from her pocket, and her posture relaxes a little. “Geez.” A small but definite smile appears on her face. “Your voice cracked, you know.”

Tonogiri immediately clears his throat. “Oh, well, uh, I suppose it did. Say, Mutsuki, would you like to be friends?”

Mutsuki doesn't understand this boy at all. One minute he's swearing on his honor against her accusation, and the next he's asking to be friends. What a weirdo. It makes Mutsuki want to laugh. It's kind of a nice feeling, actually. “Fine, fine. But you'd better keep your promise.”

Tonogiri grins. As if that'd be a problem.


	2. The Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some heroes die alone. Some die in good company. Morse & Emina.

“I still don't get why it had to be me.”

Emina conjures water into her hands with what little magic energy she has left. The blood won't wash off. She'll probably have to kill a couple of monsters on the way back to campus and pray that some flan ooze and insect oil will make her alibi believable. If she gets caught. Hopefully she won't. Either way, what a pain.

“But you came regardless, and you're still here.” Morse manages to cackle despite the gaping wound in his side. “You're a kind person, Emina. That could very well be your undoing.” His ever-present smile breaks into a grimace for a moment. No one can hide their pain completely. Not even him.

“I'm doomed either way,” Emina says. She kneels at Morse’s side and reaches for his scarf. He's had this thing forever. Despite what he'd preach, he could never let go of the past. That very thing is what he hates so much about himself. He thinks that attachment to the dead is weakness. Emina takes the scarf. What an idiot. That's not weakness. Feeling empty inside after precious memories have been stripped away is simple humanity.

Morse gives a quizzical look as muscles twitch throughout his body. “You say that but...Ahaha, you're a strange one.” He pauses to take a breath. The air comes right back out in a violent, bloody cough. “Damn, you got me good. Say you're doomed. Isn't that all the more reason to live on your own terms?” He raises his arm shakily, and makes an attempt to rest his hand on Emina's head.

Emina pulls Morse’s arm back to the ground. “I can't have you actually making me sad.” She smiles. “And don't get on my case about this. It's weirdo fashion.” She folds the scarf and tucks it inside her jacket.

Saliva leaks from the corner of Morse’s mouth. He speaks slowly. “Hey, kid. When I look up from hell, I'd like to see your real smile.”

Emina presses her lips together and tucks her chin to her chest. She lifts Morse's arm, and places his hand on the top of her head. “Well, I'm sad now.”

“I was scared. That's why it had to be you. Death is…lonely. Sorry to be...you know. I'm glad you’re here, and all that sappy cr-” Morse coughs again, and his chest convulses. With dulling eyes and blood spewing from between his lips, he smiles a final time. His arm falls into the dirt, and his hand lands mere inches from a purple hyacinth in full bloom.

Emina bites her quivering lip in waiting. As she blinks away the first of the tears, the Crystal takes her memory. She leaps away from the body and falls backward. What happened here? Who is this man? Did she kill him? Emina looks at her hands. If the drying blood is any indication, she most certainly did. What is someone with a Milites-issued uniform doing so far into Rubrum territory?

Emina takes a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself. She stands and approaches the body. Whoever this guy was, he's still bleeding, and he's smiling even in death. He must have gone in peace, then. Emina sighs. She should get out of here. She gives the area a once-over, and spots a flower near the corpse’s hand. “...Since you're so persuasive, I don't have a choice, now do I?” Emina bends down and picks the flower. It's extraordinarily beautiful, or maybe she just hasn't been paying attention lately. She addresses the body a final time. “Thank you.”


	3. White Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine, from a cat's point of view. First person.

It happened a couple of weeks ago. Deafening  _ pop pop pops _ , fire all over the place, and buildings crumbling down. I was in one of those buildings. I couldn't see, and I could hardly breathe either. All I could do was panic and cry. In hindsight, I wish my first memory was something less terrifying. The good news is, someone came to my rescue.

Just when I was about to give up and accept my fate, someone heard my cries for help and began to move the rubble. I could soon see a little bit of sunlight, and that glimmer of hope gave me the strength to crawl toward the one who would become my savior.

I don’t understand that many human words, but I definitely heard someone say, “Let's go.” Was I going to be abandoned, just like that? “No way!” That's what the person digging me out said, without hesitation. A big rock moved, and I could see him: a human with golden fur on top of his head and a defining whisker across the middle of his face. He scooped me up with one paw and held me close to his chest. I was safe.

I was whisked off to my savior's home, which became my home as well. There, I learned lots of things. For one, my savior's name is Nine. He's actually a bit large compared to a lot of humans. He seems confused often, but I can tell that he has a good heart. When he first brought me home, he immediately took me to two very amiable humans with brown fur even though I'm fairly certain he was injured. Those two cast some magic on me and bandaged my left hind leg. I felt better in no time at all.

While I'm not a fan of the heathenous ritual called a “bath,” it doesn't hurt. I actually feel refreshed after I'm dry. Nine makes sure to give me food and water. Sometimes he brings back hot, juicy, scrumptious meat from mysterious far-off lands. Best of all, I get to sleep curled up next to him at night. He's very warm.

Lately, Nine has become more and more busy with “missions.” They're important, but I wish they weren't so frequent. Even though he smiles when he comes home, he's definitely a bit tired. When he's gone for a long time, he leaves me with Ryid.

Ryid is just as kind as Nine, and even bigger. He gives excellent belly rubs, too. But, I have noticed that when he gets up in the morning, he doesn't go, “Orryaaaa!!” Maybe that's something only Nine does. That's one more reason to miss him. At least I know without a doubt that he'll come back soon. I look forward to his return, and to the day that this “war” ends.


	4. Time of Tranquility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight is just beginning his meditation session when some unexpected company arrives. Cinque & Eight.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Tranquility.

“Eight!” Cinque barges into the garden with a presence bigger than her mace. She's bubbly, energetic,  _ loud,  _ and she's just about destroyed Eight's hopes of getting a good meditation session in today. Such is life.

“Hey, Cinque,” Eight says. He rises from his spot on the ground and brushes grass off his pants. “Did you need something?”

Cinque puts her hands behind her head, probably copying that thing Jack does. “Well, Sice was all, ‘Go bother someone else,’ so heeeere I am! Whatcha doin’?”

Eight scratches the back of his neck. “I was meditating, actually.”

“Oh yeah, you do that a lot, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Cinque stares silently at Eight. Eight stares back.

Despite his patient nature, Eight has never been a fan of awkward silences. He puts a hand on his hip. “Would you like to meditate with me, Cinque?”

Cinque's eyes widen a little. “Huh? Would I?  _ Can _ I? That seems like it takes a lot of focus…” She gives a thoughtful pout.

Eight sits cross-legged on the ground and taps a patch of grass next to him. “Not at all. Anyone can do it.”

An enthusiastic smile takes over Cinque's features. “Okie-dokie, then!” She plops down next to Eight and mimics his position.

Eight almost says something about the visible white polka-dots peeking out from under Cinque's skirt, but ultimately decides against it. The garden is pretty secluded, so it shouldn't be a problem. “Okay, close your eyes. Breathe in…”


	5. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being a l'Cie for some time, Zhuyu has a question for his senior. Zhuyu & Caetuna.

Zhuyu paces about, occasionally glancing at Caetuna. He's clearly bothered by something, but she doesn't pry. She never does. It's a surprise she hasn't up and disappeared, like she tends to do.

Finally fed up with himself and his own hesitation, Zhuyu takes a seat beside her, unconsciously shaking his leg as he ponders what exactly he should say. He presses his lips together, squints at one of the pillars across the mausoleum, and lets out a low hum.

“...Lady Caetuna, do you dream?”

Caetuna's response comes as expected: forthright. “For l'Cie, sleep is no longer necessary. Dreams as well serve no purpose.”

Zhuyu looks down at his feet. He can already tell the memories he has left are slowly being taken away. But, he still has these lingering thoughts and feelings. And most of all, the dreams. Or, daydreams, lately. Caetuna is right that l'Cie don't require sleep. It's maddening on a level. “Lady Caetuna, do you, personally, have dreams?” Even a curt, “No,” would satisfy Zhuyu's curiosity, for now.

Caetuna stares into nothing, a common act Zhuyu had come to notice and accept. “I occasionally see...events.”

Zhuyu turns his head toward Caetuna. “What did you see?”

“Death.”

Zhuyu holds his breath a moment as regret burns inside him. He prepares an apology, but Caetuna continues. “On one occasion, I summoned Bahamut to attack the Peristylium. Another, I'd sacrificed lives innumerable to call upon Leviathan. Another, I was felled by mine own hand. Yet another, I'd witnessed a sublimation.”

Just short of flabbergasted, Zhuyu takes a moment to think of a response. He's never heard Caetuna talk this much before, and he never would've guessed she'd say  _ that.  _ Really, he can't guess anything about her. She wears a blank expression and she has no memories. All known information about her is written in documents and textbooks. Except the fact that she sometimes has harrowing daydreams.

Zhuyu scratches his head. It makes sense that Caetuna would have plenty of trauma, but how her mind could conjure those things up without memories is a curious thing indeed. “Lady Caetuna?” Zhuyu crosses his arms and looks away. “May I call you ‘Caetuna’ without the honorific? We are fellow l'Cie, after all.”

“Your mission is your own,” Caetuna says sharply. “Just as my mission is my own.” She stands. “Call me what you will, Zhuyu.”

For some reason or another, those last words bring a smile to Zhuyu's face. What a peculiar woman.


	6. Bitter Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing like a nice milkshake. Or coffee. Sice & Cater.

Cater sips her milkshake and lightly taps her feet under the café table. Sice sips from a mug of black coffee, her face in a permanent grimace from the bitter taste. “That's some dedication,” Cater remarks. Anyone who knows Sice knows that once her mind is set on something, she won't be quick to give it up. Which begs the question… “Why are you drinking that again?”

Sice sits upright from her slight slouch and turns her head away to clear her throat. “Well, you know.” She gives Cater a forced smile. “Right?”

“No,” Cater replies flatly.

Sice glances around the café. The other patrons are caught up in their own conversations. “Well, Mother drinks hers black, ya know. Thought I'd try it.”

Cater takes a long sip of her milkshake. “Mmm. So, you've tried it. It's clear you don't like it.”

“It must be an acquired taste!”

Cater shakes her head. “It's not like she's gonna disown you for having a different coffee preference. Relax.”

Sice folds her arms. “I know that. It’d just be nice to have more common. That's all.” She sighs and rests her head on the table. Cater takes a sweep of the café with her eyes and spots Ryid, who happens to be their waiter. She waves him over and points to Sice. Ryid promptly makes his way to the table, pen and notepad in hand.

“One hot chocolate deluxe, please,” Cater says with a smile. “And the bill.”

Ryid adds the order to a list on his notepad. “Certainly. Is there anything else I can do for you at this time?”

“Nope, we're set.” Cater nods as Ryid takes his leave. She looks to Sice. “You know what Mother would say? You're fine as you are. Having different tastes is part of what makes us all unique.”

Sice looks up at Cater and squints. “...You been hanging out with Queen?”

Cater raises her brow. “Huh?”

“Or maybe Seven? Eight?”

“What's that got to do with our conversation?”

Sice sits up and then leans back against her chair. “Heh. You sound like ‘em is all. All wise and stuff.”

“Really, now?” Cater finishes her milkshake with a smirk.

“My apologies for the wait.” Ryid approaches again and sets a cup of hot chocolate on the table along with the bill, then practically vanishes into thin air.

Cater reaches for the bill. “Wait? That was lightspeed.” She takes another look around the café, noting the numerous tables with refilled glasses, steaming food, and fresh desserts. “Impressive.” She then gives her attention to the bill.

“What do I owe ya?” Sice asks, reaching for the cup of hot chocolate.

Cater stares intently at the numbers. “Hmm….Zero gil.”

“Foreal?” Sice asks.

Cater digs in her backpack for her wallet. “Yeah. Think of it as thanks for that hot gossip on Commander Kotetsu.”

Sice giggles inwardly. “If anyone asks, y’ain’t hear it from me.”


	7. 600,104,964

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two abominations remain in the aftermath of Alexander's attack. Caetuna and ?

Few can say that they've encountered the Nox Suzaku. Even fewer can say they expect its appearance. Fewer still can stand in its presence, undaunted, simply observing the abomination as it feeds on forgotten souls.

Caetuna can sense a presence as Alexander’s light fills her vision. It's twisted and disconnected from what “should” be, but, for the moment, exists all the same. A sight that should come as a surprise feels completely natural and familiar, as if this is the millionth meeting and not the first.

A mass of darkness and feathers flies through the dust as the Eidolon returns whence it came. Caetuna remains still, her strength drained and her mission fulfilled. The being - the Nox Suzaku, it's called - flies past Caetuna to what can only be sacrifices used in the summoning. A lack of memory supports this conclusion. Caetuna draws a breath, and forces her stiff body to turn around. Her eyes first fall upon the colored mantles. Agito cadets. A great deal of those who gave their lives were but children. Surely the commander at the head of the group understood this, and still permitted their certain death.

The Nox Suzaku begins to feed, one demonic head gazing at the l'Cie as red threads grasp at numerous corpses. Suzaku’s darkness: It does not discriminate, and neither does war, let alone death. They lost their lives honorably, in defense of the Vermilion Bird. And, Caetuna remains. She will not die, but sublimate, and she will be remembered. For what purpose? The only reason, Caetuna guesses, is that so those left behind by their dearly departed ones will have someone to blame, to hate. Divine Will or no, their blood is on her hands. If but she could atone for her immeasurable sins. Alas, redemption is out of reach. The Vermilion Bird’s shadow: a killer incapable of feeling remorse, an abomination with the appearance of a woman. Perhaps the reason that the Nox Suzaku seems familiar is because that in some respects, they are the same.

Caetuna falls to her knees. The time has arrived, after a life of eons. The burning flame inside gives way to a vacant chill as small crystals form on her skin. The Nox Suzaku lets out a single screech, which Caetuna cannot register as she descends into her final rest. Instead, curiously enough, she hears the voice of a young woman with a promise: “The spiral will end once and for all, soon. The cycle of war and death will come to a close, and at long last the wish you share with countless others shall be fulfilled.”

Caetuna wonders what “wish” the voice calling to her speaks of. Something she'd prayed for long ago, perhaps. Something desired by human hearts aplenty. Drawing her final breath, Caetuna finds her answer. That which she'd given up her humanity for, that which all Orience has been deprived of time and again, that state of being overcoming her as her heartbeat stills: peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a "what if" idea that Myuria rests somewhere within the Nox, so I thought I'd play around with that.


	8. Hugo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazusa brings Emina some good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a silly little scribble, but in all seriousness: Congratulations and thank you to those who founded and maintain this site. All my respect.

Emina relaxes on the terrace as she often does, sitting on a bench with an upright posture, typing away on the laptop a bunch of students had given to her a year or so back. In hindsight she should've been more reluctant to accept the gift, but she'd been wanting something small and sleek for ages. It definitely beats practicing her hobbies on her clunky old work computer or squinting at her phone. Okay, maybe in this case it still strains her neck a bit, but the terrace is such a great thinking spot. It always has been.

The portal makes its unique teleportation noise, and a familiar voice follows. “How do you do? Hugo Award nominee Emina Hanaharu.” Kazusa gives a light wave of his hand and steps out into the sun. Instinctively, Emina saves her document and closes the window, revealing another, non-suspicious window displaying a page about flower language. Kazusa takes a seat beside her on the bench and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then he abruptly sneezes into his elbow. “GaA-Fuu! Oh, it's spring alright.”

“Don't fall sick, Doc,” Emina teases as Kazusa takes a handkerchief from his pocket. “So what's with the Hugo thing?”

“You haven't heard?” Kazusa asks. He wipes at his nose to clean it up and quickly returns the cloth whence it came. “The Archive of Our Own has been nominated in the Best Related Work category.”

Emina opens a new tab and begins a search. “You're pulling my leg… Oh. Seriously? So, the  _ whole  _ archive? All of it?”

Kazusa’s left leg starts to slightly bounce up and down as he thinks. “You know, it's unclear. But I think you should embrace it.”

“You're right,” Emina says. “You can call me Emina Hanaharu, Hugo-Nominated Author.” She places a firm hand on Kazusa's shoulder. “You have to. No one else knows I'm on that site. And it’s best it stays that way.”

Kazusa brings one hand up and starts to pluck Emina's fingers off his shoulder. “Yes, well, you don't have to worry about me spreading any information on that topic. Most staff and students are loath to listen to me, anyway. And I'd rather you didn't come for my head.” Emina's hand falls off his shoulder. “By the way, what are you writing these days, Emina?”

Emina closes her laptop and stands. “Oh yeah, I just remembered I have a meeting. Wouldn't want to be late!”

“I'm subscribed to your account, Emina.” Kazusa crosses his arms and his legs.

Emina waves as she starts off toward the portal. “See you later, Kazusa!” And just like that, she's gone.

Kazusa sighs, then laughs to himself. “Must be something juicy.”


End file.
